


A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Posting

by JRreads



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Crossovers: Highlander, Crossovers: Other, Crossovers: duesouth, Humor, M/M, crossovers, other pairing - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JRreads/pseuds/JRreads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It features Blair (along with three other fan-fav characters), who are all wondering when I'll get their next respective stories posted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Posting

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I should go ahead and say right up front that this little piece of comedy isn't exactly Blair/Jim, contains no sex whatsoever, and is a blatent Mary Sue of sorts. 
> 
> If you haven't hit your delete key by now, and need a little chuckle to brighten your day, then please keep reading. 
> 
> Like this or hate it, I always love to hear from y'all. Thanks for indulging me. 
> 
> Well, this started out a simple "Obsenad", but I was having such fun   
> with it, I decided to keep going. I should caution that this story is full of in-jokes for many different fandoms. 
> 
> Thanks: As always, to Heather T. and Marius. And to Lisa Martin for the inspiration this past weekend.

## A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Posting

by JR

Author's disclaimer: Disclaimer: All other characters belong to their respective owners and are used without permission. This story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it.

* * *

The fierce wind raging outside saved Angel the trouble of having to close the entrance way door behind him. Damn, but it was colder than a well-digger's ass over here. The -9C temperature was enough to chill even a vampire. 

'Why the hell does she have to live all the way over here?' Angel thought to himself as he made his way down the corridor to the computer room. Not that he minded the frequent trips over to Amsterdam, but sometimes, he couldn't help but wish she'd stayed at home in Florida. At least it was warm there. 

"Hey JR!" Angel said cheerfully as he opened the door. "You ready to get start..." 

The words trailed off as he took in the scene before him. JR was in her favourite place, bundled into a heavy layer of sweats while sitting in front of her computer. Loud music was pouring out of the speakers -- Barenaked Ladies -- and the nearby radiator was cranked to the 'melt the paint off the walls' setting. By now, it was a familiar sight to Angel; after all, she was always ready to type up the tales he told her whenever the he decided to drop by for a visit. 

No, what threw the two-centuries old vampire was the slender man standing behind JR with a sword pressed up against her neck!! 

Angel's normally drop-dead (pun most definitely intended ;-) gorgeous looks disappeared in the blink of an eye; revealing the twisted features of the demon hidden within his body. Fangs bared, the vampire snarled at the person threatening his writer-friend. 

"I don't know who the hell you are, but you've got about a picasecond to drop the sword and get away from her!" 

To his credit, the sword-bearer didn't even bat an eyelash at Angel's sudden transformation. In fact, the 13th century Ivanhoe never so much as faltered as the man's ageless hazel eyes shifted to assess whether or not the vampire was a threat. After a well-timed pause, a wry smile finally appeared on the man's face. 

"If you want to have a word with her, you'll have to wait your turn." 

"Well, then, you won't mind if I have some dinner while I'm waiting." Angel growled. 

"Knowing JR, there won't be anything but Dr Pepper and liquefied lettuce in the fridge, but there's always the Burger King down the street. Why don't you go out and grab a bite." 

"Why should I when I can just eat in?" Angel retorted, eyeing the stranger's long neck. Nothing like killing two birds with one stone, the vampire reckoned. Not only would he have a snack, but he'd also get to move to the front of the line. 

"Meth...Adam, Angel...down, boys. While all this blatant testosterone is doing marvelous things to my libido, it's not helping the situation." The writer pleaded softly as she struggled to get both the men and her hormones under control. 

Realizing that she was right, Adam raised a elegant, questioning eyebrow at the vampire. Sensing the man's intent, Angel a gave a reluctant nod in reply. As the sword slowly moved away from JR's neck, the contorted features returned to their more handsome visage. Angel noted that, although the sword was no longer an immediate threat, it remained out in the open in a tightly gripped hand. 

Once the vampire was back to 'normal,' Adam took the opportunity to study his potential rival. From the expression on his face, it was clear that he was less than impressed. 

" _This_ is what's been distracting you for the past two months?" He asked, his British accent only accentuating his tone of disbelief. 

"Distracting her?" Angel repeated incredulously. "Do you know how fast she's been writing lately?" 

"Of course I know, you bloody idiot! Every time I drop by with a new plot twist or an incredibly witty line of dialogue, she's always too busy with your stories to do more than jot down a few notes on mine!" 

"Adam, I'm so sorry! I keep meaning to work harder on your stuff, but this obsession with Angel just came on so quickly and..." 

"Oh, that's just perfect." 

Something in JR snapped when Adam's sarcastic tone hit her ears. "Yeah, well, I sure didn't hear _you_ complaining when I set the guys from the Sentinel aside for you." 

"Exactly my point!" Adam insisted. "And just how long has it been since you posted a Sentinel story on-line?" 

"I'm posting one this week, thank you very much," JR retorted. 

"That's wonderful." He said snidely. "It only took you, what, five months since the last one?" 

"That's not fair! Ever since I got a job, I just don't have the computer time that I used to have, and then what time I _do_ have I'm forced to share with my hubby so he can shoot aliens on his stupid computer games! Besides, I whenever I _was_ writing, I was working on that damned crossover! How was I supposed to know that it would turn out to be a 200+ page novel??" 

"Speaking of which..." 

"NO! Don't say it..." JR pleaded, but to no avail. Just then there was a polite knock at the door that tore a dread-filled groan from the writer's throat. 

"Come in." She said flatly. 

"I hope we aren't interrupting..." The handsome man in full Mountie-regalia asked as he opened the door. 

"Of course we are Ben, but that's why she loves us so much..." came a muffled voice from the hallway. 

Angel craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the second man, who was obscured from his view when the Mountie came to a sudden halt upon finding that JR already had company in the small room. His pale blue eyes moved from vampire to immortal before widening in surprise at the sight of the drawn sword. 

"Oh dear. Ms. R? Is everything alright here?" He asked cautiously while silently considering the best way to disarm the slender man. 

"Everything's fine, Ben. Adam here was just a little upset when he came in." JR insisted. 

"Then perhaps he might consider dropping his weapon..." Constable Benton Fraser suggested carefully. 

"Not on your life, Dudley Do-right," the immortal mumbled. 

"Behave." JR warned him sternly. 

While Angel noted the exchange, his immediate attention was drawn to the sight of a curl-covered head bouncing up and down behind the Mountie. 

"Geez, Fraser, you're as bad as Jim," the smaller man groused as he pushed his way around the red-serge covered arm protectively blocking his path in order to see what all the commotion was about. He was in the process of calling out a greeting to JR when his gaze came across the immortal. 

"METHOS!" He shouted, his azure blue eyes dancing with surprised happiness. "I haven't seen you since we did that crossover together for JR." 

"Hey Blair," the immortal replied with a genuine grin before almost being bowled over as Blair leaped forward to encompass him in a bear hug. 

"Long time, man," the young anthropologist said as he patted/slapped the lean, muscled back through the thick bulk of one of Methos' figure-disguising sweaters. An ironic chuckle escaped Blair as he thought twice about what he'd just said. "Well, long time for me, anyway." 

A rare laugh escape Methos at Blair's comment, while Angel wondered why the guy with the long hair and multiple earrings was addressing 'Adam' as 'Methos.' 

"So what have you been getting into lately?" Blair inquired innocently. 

"Nothing and nobody!" Methos countered -- with a harsh glare at the writer, who was busy cringing away from Death himself. "That's the damned problem!" 

For his part, Fraser was puzzled by the quick disappearance of Methos's sword. Noticing his searching glances, JR couldn't help but stage whisper to him. "Forget it, Ben. The fans have been wondering how they do that for six seasons." Although unsatisfied with the answer, the Mountie let the matter drop, turning his attention back to the two friends who were busy reuniting. 

"How are things going, kid?" Methos asked as he stepped back from the embrace. 

"Pretty good, at least once JR decided to ignore the whole third-season cliffhanger." 

"Oooh, that's right. You were drowned in a fountain, then your show was cancelled. I heard about that," Methos replied sympathetically. "God, that must have been awful." 

"Not half as bad as UPN screwing around with the whole 'cancelled-then-brought-back-as-a-Januarymid -season-replacement-then-held-up-until-March' thing." 

"What a nightmare. Network executives. Useless, the whole damned lot of them, if you ask me." Methos commiserated before turning his all-knowing hazel eyes on Angel. "You should be glad you're on the WB," he said sagely. 

It was then that Blair noticed the stranger in the room. Unfamiliar with Angel's ability to merge into the shadows, the anthropologist's eyebrows knitted in confusion as to how exactly he'd missed the handsome vampire when he first entered the room. A casual shrug punctuated Blair's dismissal of the unvoiced question, and without even a moment's hesitation, he stepped past the Mountie, with an arm extended. 

"Hi. I'm Blair Sandburg." 

"Angel." The vampire replied simply as he returned the handshake. 

"Whoo, cold hands," Blair noted. 

"So I've been told," Angel commented wryly. 

"Just Angel?" Blair questioned. 

Thrown by the non sequitor, the vampire paused for a second before he answered. "Yeah. Well for now, anyway. I think the Powers That Be want to keep a shroud of mystery around me until my spin-off starts." He admitted a little sheepishly. 

"You got your own spin-off?" Blair asked, his bright blue eyes wide with awe. 

"Not until next year," Angel replied, humbly. 

"You got your own spin-off?" 

"Well, then, allow me to offer my congratulations. Constable Benton Fraser," the Mountie introduced, ignoring Blair's repeated rambling. 

"Hi. I'm Angel. Nice to meet you," the vampire replied. It was the last thing said for a few long moments. 

Then suddenly, a perturbed voice broke through the unnatural silence. "What am I? Yesterday's Cheesy-Poofs?" 

"Ah, geez, JR, I didn't mean to ignore you," Blair mollified as hugged the writer. "How've'ya been?" 

"Stressed. Tired. The usual," she said as Fraser came forward to offer her a similar greeting. 

"Real life being a bitch?" Blair questioned, sympathetically. 

"With both barrels," JR agreed. "So what brings you guys to the other side of the Atlantic on a cold night like this?" 

"You see," the good Constable began, "Blair and I were just discussing the Inuit method of properly tanning moose hides. Unlike the more generally accepted modern process of..." 

"Yeah. Right. To make a long story short," Blair interrupted, his hands never resting as they moved to physically punctuate his words. "We kinda moved off into a tangent about the mating habits of mooses...or is it moose? Moos-i?" 

"I believe the correct term to be simply 'moose,'" Ben interjected helpfully. 

"Moose. Fine, whatever. Anyway, so the topic of mating rituals comes up, forgive the pun, and we started wondering, 'Hey, what's up with JR these days. She was doing so well there for awhile; ten, even fifteen pages a day. Then she stops to go on vacation to Florida, and when she comes back, she like, totally forgets about us!' I mean, it might not have been so bad, except she posted the prologue to the story before she left." 

JR bowed her head in shame. "I'm sorry guys, I honestly meant to work on the story while I was gone, but the only web access I had was WebTV. Do you know how hard it was to try and type on that tiny little keyboard? And how frustrating it was _not_ to be able to type more than a few pages at a time." 

"Excuses and assh..." 

"Language, Blair," Fraser chided. 

"Oh come on, Ben. You know the real reason she didn't finish the story was because she was too busy scuba diving and shooting pool with her friends every night." Blair whined. 

"Well, if she did, then that was her prerogative, Blair." 

"That's all well and good, Constable, but it doesn't explain why she's been ignoring the three of us since she got back," Methos reminded. 

"Hello? Pot? Kettle? In case you've forgotten, oh wise one, she stopped writing our story to start yours," Blair insisted. 

"So is that really my fault?" Methos protested. "I mean, there I was, series finished, relaxing in Bora Bora..." 

"Bora Bora?" The anthropologist asked. 

"I heard it was nice that time of year," the immortal offered by way of explanation. "I then I get this call. 'Methos, how would you like a nice post-Not to Be story?' What did you expect me to say, especially the crappy way the series ended. I mean, honestly, they set this nice little video montage of the Highlander's life to one of the most incredibly beautiful songs, and I'm barely in the damned thing! Tessa, Richie, Joe, Amanda; they get all these nice close-up shots. What do I get? A dark, smoky shot under the bridge..." 

"But that was a critical moment in Duncan's life!" JR protested. "You'd just offered him your head for God's sake!" 

"Alright, I'll give you that one. But what about the rest? Mac walking _away_ from me? A shot of me walking _away_ from MacLeod by a park bench -- not to mention the fact that that shot might as well have been taken from the top of the Eiffel Tower as distant as it was \-- a then a group shot of Joe, Richie, and I. And what was up with that line at the end? After three bloody seasons of poorly concealed homoerotic subtext, do I even get a nice, parting gift from MacLeod? Noooo! Christ, even Joe rated a hug! And Amanda actually got an 'I love you' after God knows how long. But what did I get -- and after I risk my neck for him for the umpteenth million time? 'Gee, old man? You taught me that life's about change.' Well, duh! Only took the bloody Scot three whole seasons to figure that one out." 

"Methos, time to switch to decaf, man," Blair suggested, wide-eyed at the immortal's sudden rant. "Besides, it could be worse. At least your fandom doesn't have an entire 'Fixit' category on its main story archive for alternate endings to the series finale." 

As Blair and JR turned harsh glares on Fraser, who at least had the good grace to look sheepish. And the worse thing was, the Mountie was helpless to say anything in his defense. After all, the crappy ending of his show was entirely his own fault. 

Uncomfortable with the all the sudden attention, the Mountie did his best to change the subject. "Perhaps we should get back to the matter at hand." 

"Oh sure, rub it in why don't you," Methos snapped before rolling his eyes at his own unintentional double entendre. It only took one glance at the other people in the room and Methos realized that some explanation would be necessary. "For the past month and a half, *she's* left me alone on top of some godforsaken mountain in North Carolina, of all places; with no one but myself for company." 

"What is it with you and the Appalachian Mountains, anyway?" Blair asked JR. 

"What _are_ you raving about?" Methos asked none too politely. 

"You think you've got it bad?" The anthropologist demanded of the immortal. "I've been stuck in Virginia for the past year while my partner is back in Washington State. And not only did she leave me, the neo-hippiewitchdoctor -punk, among the rednecks; she promised that I'd get to go home twice, but never delivered!" 

"I wrote around it, just like I did with that Thanksgiving trip I promised you. Besides, wasn't the Christmas story all the more powerful because you missed each other in November?" JR defended. 

"Whatever. Just remember when you go to post part 6 that it's not me who's gonna be pissed because you glossed over the Aspen trip," Blair reminded with an evil glint in his mesmerizing blue eyes. 

JR couldn't help but wince at the thought of the negative feedback she knew would be coming from all those wonderful people who'd written asking to know what happened in Aspen. 

"You'd just better hope that sex scene will be good enough to keep them happy," Blair admonished. 

"Sex scene?" Angel asked, a demanding eyebrow arching in an unspoken question. Knowing damn well that she was gonna have some 'splaining to do, JR's head dropped into the relative safety of her hands. 

Just then, Blair's sharp gaze moved from the distressed writer to the vampire. "Do you mean to tell me that she's written 5 stories about you and not _one_ of them has a sex scene?" 

"She told me that she had to be careful since the WillAngel list isn't 'Adult'" Angel defended weakly. 

"Genfic?" Blair's voice was rife with disbelief as he faced JR. "*You're* writing genfic?" 

"Yeah," Methos interrupted, his eyes betraying his obvious amusement over the writer's discomfort. "Not only that, but would you believe that her last two stories were HHJJ?" 

"Happy happy, joy joy? Noooo, not JR, not the Angst Princess." Blair mocked. 

"If her last two stories got any sweeter, she would've needed to add a 'may cause cancer in lab rats' warning in the disclaimer section." Methos teased. 

There was a slight hint of sympathy in Blair's eyes as his gaze turned to the uncomfortable vampire. "No wonder you haven't gotten any yet. JR likes to put us through hell before she lets us do the horizontal cha-cha." 

JR groaned loudly as Angel shot her a look so icy, it could have frozen vodka. The problem was that JR literally _had_ written Angel into Hell for the first two stories of his series. Now it was time for her to face the devil, so to speak. 

"I'll make it up to you Angel, I swear it, even though I was trying to establish a stronger friendship between you and Willow first. How 'bout a hot little dream-sequence PWP?" 

As soon as the words left her lips, Blair and Methos were howling with laughter. 

"A Plot?What Plot? story?" The immortal gasped in between indelicate snorts of laughter. 

"Oh please, JR. You're genetically incapable of writing something short. Hell, just look at this one. Didn't this start out as a 3-5 page Archive Fic/Obsenad?" Blair pointed out. 

"Okay! Okay! So I can't write anything without a gut-wrenching, angst-driven plot. Sue me!" JR protested weakly. 

"Sue you?" The Mountie questioned. "Wouldn't that be unwise, considering that you _are_ using copyrighted characters without direct and express permission from their proper owners -- their creators and the various production companies?" 

"SHHHHH!" Cautioned the other four people in the room. "We don't ever talk about that. Besides, that's what the disclaimers are for," added JR. 

"Of course. I'm sore-ry for mentioning it," Ben placated. 

"So," Blair began in attempt to bring the conversation back on track. "How shall we decide who's story gets written first? A roll of the dice, a toss of a coin, a good old fashioned match of rock, paper, scissors?" 

"How about 'age before beauty?'" Methos suggested R.O.G.ishly. Blair and JR snorted at the comment, while Angel and Ben puzzled over the pair's reaction. 

"That works for me," Angel said smugly, certain that his two and a half centuries of existence would put him firmly in the lead. 

"Fine then, it's settled. After all, age and treachery always overcomes youth and skill. Now JR, when are you going to get me down off that blasted mountain?" 

"Hey!" Chorused Angel, Blair, and Ben. 

"We never agreed to this." Blair insisted with a nod of support from the Mountie. 

"Besides, I'm the oldest one here." Angel insisted petulantly. 

"Oh really." Methos drolled. "And just how long have you been around?" 

"Two hundred and forty three years." The vampire crowed, unable to keep his self-satisfied smirk off his face. 

"Please." Methos retorted arrogantly. "I've had hangovers that have lasted longer than that." 

"What?" Angel asked, his confusion clearly evident. 

"When you hit 5,000, get back to me," the old man countered with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

"That's not possible!" 

"Sure it is." Blair insisted. "He's an Immortal." 

"You're immortal?" Angel asked the thirty-something looking man. 

"Yes, I am Immortal. I have inside me blood of kings. I have no rival...yadda, yadda, yadda... Surely you've heard this before." Methos droned. 

"No..." The vampire replied simply, a trace of awe in his tone. 

"You must not get out much," the oldest Immortal quipped. 

"So where does this leave us?" Blair asked impatiently. 

'In heat,' JR thought wickedly to herself. 

One by one, they all turned to face the writer that quite literally held their individual fates in her hands. And yet, she found it impossible to make a decision. First there was Blair; with his maniac energy and his exuberant, bubbly charm combined with his unconventional beauty. Next came Ben; with his rugged, traditional handsomeness, intelligence, and his polite manners. Then came Methos; his gorgeous angular features only the icing on a cake of sharp wit and devastating intellect. And finally, there were her latest obsession; the brooding vampire with his smoldering good looks. 

How was a girl supposed to choose? 

Just then, a brilliant idea popped into her head. She may not have been able to have them in real life, but she sure as hell could indulge her semi-hidden fantasies by writing... 

"Oh no you don't!" Methos threatened. "I'm in enough 'Mary Sue' stories already without adding one of yours to the list." 

'Damn it!' JR groused. 'He's always ten steps ahead of whatever I'm thinking. No wonder he always beats me at chess! Okay, so a Mary Sue story is out. Shit out of luck for me. Oooh, but maybe..." 

"Don't even think about it!" Methos growled. "This isn't 'Party at Vachon's'." 

"But Methos..." JR whined. 

"Absolutely not! I swear, JR, you're into more bloody pairings than Tom Paris!" The oldest Immortal admonished. "Besides, as 'technically' as you write, it'd take you a month just to work out the logistics!" 

Angel had no idea what the deal was with Vachon's, but Blair and Fraser were looking a little flushed. 

"Did I miss something here?" The vampire asked to nobody in particular. 

"It was a crossover sequel by a really great slash writer that they were all in together. Don't worry about it." JR soothed. 

"Now, about my story..." Methos began only to be interrupted by a slightly perturbed Mountie. 

"I, for one, never agreed to your terms in the first place, Methos. Now, in a manner of fair play, I suggest that JR complete her stories in the order she began them, which would place her Due South/The Sentinel crossover at the top of the list." As he finished speaking, four pairs of eyes settled on him, startled by Ben's rare flash of temper. 

"Man, I guess the new Ray really has had an effect on you," Blair observed. 

"Do you consider the impact to be positive or negative?" The Mountie inquired rather scientifically. 

"Oh no! I'm not getting into the middle of the 'Great Ray Debate' in one of my stories," JR swore vehemently. 

"Surely you must have some preference in the matter," Ben probed. 

"I like them both," JR insisted. "The important thing to remember is that both of them have distinctly different personalities...NO! I said I wasn't getting into this!" 

"Fine, then. You'll have plenty of time to talk about my story..." began Methos. 

"Your story? We've been waiting around forever for her..." 

"What about that sex scene with Will..." 

"I'd really like to hear your opinion on both Ray Vecchio and Ray Kowalski..." 

The four men continued speaking simultaneously, each constantly raising his volume in an effort to make sure that his own voice was the one the writer heard. 

It was no use. 

It only took a moment of attempting to follow four separate conversations before the first pangs of what would become a monumental headache began to show themselves. As their words became louder and more heated, the voices lost their distinctiveness. Less than two minutes passed until the sounds degrading into nothing more than irritating background noise to JR's ears. 

Unable to stand it any longer, the writer put her fingers to her lips and issued a sharp, hair-raising whistle. Within a single second, all of the various monologues came to a complete halt. 

Rubbing her forehead wearily, JR's line of sight moved from one now-silent man to the next. Methos was staring at her intently with that achingly-beautiful haunted look in his gold-green eyes. Next to the Immortal, stood Ben; aiming his best 'Big Eyed Mountie' look directly in her direction. Angel came next, his rich brown eyes and his slightly slouched posture indicating that he was in full 'tortured soul' mode. And finally, there was Blair; bouncing almost inperceptively on the balls of his feet as he aimed his best 'puppy dog' expression JR's way. 

"Okay guys, here's how it's gonna work. You all know that the only time I can write is when my Muse shows up; and I'm not always certain which fandom she's going to want to visit from day to day..." JR began. 

"Oh, what a cop-out!" Methos groaned. 

"It's true!" JR insisted. "You _know_ I can't write when she's not around..." 

"But she's always off somewhere, either on vacation or on an extended lunch break," Blair pouted. 

"I know, Blair, and I do try my best to keep her in line, but sometimes absolutely nothing I try can make her come back until she's good and ready. So until then, I'll post the new Sentinel story; keep plugging away at the new Highlander and Angel pieces; and send the DS/TS x-over out to the beta readers. Now. Is everybody happy?" 

Of the whole group, only Blair seemed particularly pleased. Naturally so, considering his was the next story to hit the lists. 

Just then, the door to the computer room opened to admit a familiar, cherubic face. 

"Hey guys!" JR's muse called out as she stripped off the thick full-length coat she was wearing to protect her from the elements. 

"And just where in the hell have you been?" JR asked ruthlessly. 

"Oh...the usual. Here and there. But I did have a great lunch today with a guy I met a few weeks ago." 

"Does this guy have a name?" 

"Yes, it's Daniel and he's an anthropologist. I've got some great plotline ideas, too, while I was at it." 

Behind her Methos was busy rolling his eyes. "Great, just great. Just what JR needs: Another fandom!" 

finis 


End file.
